


The Scars from Yesterday

by ChocolateWhore



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Amnesia, Character Death, F/M, M/M, Possible Character Death, Possible Out of Character, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-24 07:13:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16635329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateWhore/pseuds/ChocolateWhore
Summary: Soulmate AU where you have a scar on your body of where your soulmate first touches you. When your soulmate dies, the scar disappears.During combat, Nico was knocked unconscious and loses his memory. Having been confirmed dead after months of searching, Will’s soulmark fades, causing him to believe that Nico is dead. Now, a year has gone by and Nico still has no memory of Will or soulmates, until he meets an impatient blond on the rainy streets of New York, and finds his wallet with a very strange picture in it.





	1. Nico

It was raining, big dark drops falling from the clouds and flooding the streets, though that didn’t deter the heavily impatient crowds of people from swarming the streets of New York. Umbrellas popped up everywhere, hovering over nearly every person, or hoods draped over soaking wet heads, all aside from one male, a smaller boy stomping through the puddles of the flooded sidewalks, his head down. Long dark hair fell in his face, though his dark gaze remained on the sidewalk beneath him as he walked. People brushed past the male, knocking shoulders or elbows with him. Hissing in annoyance, he presses his arms closer to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets as if it would make him disappear. 

He’d been darting around on the streets for as long as he could remember, which really, was only a year. The raven haired male had woken up one day with no idea who he was or how he’d gotten where he was, collapsed under a bride that had fallen to ruin. All he’d had was a pretty shredded black shirt with a skull design too worn to notice, and a ripped aviator jacket lying in the mud of the river bank. No clues as to how he ended up there or to who he was, just him and his clothes. Eventually, after the initial terror had worn off, the male had simply gone on with his life. Or, tried to. He’d sought refuge in a collapsing building in the outskirts of the city, and had taken to shoplifting to survive. But really, what did street vendors expect? Just having their items sitting out in the open like that, they were  _ asking  _ to get stolen. 

After the first few months had passed, little things started dawning on him. Little memories, though he could never place where they had come from or what they had linked to, and he wasn’t going to push for answers without even the slightest clues as to where to begin. He remembered a silver skull ring, though he didn’t know where he’d gotten that idea from. None of the rings he found on the street were familiar to him. He remembered a sword, black as night and a nightmare that didn’t feel much like a nightmare. He remembered the name Nico, and easily figured it was his. Other than that, the kid had no ideas. 

Someone knocked into Nico, causing him to stumble heavily and nearly falling into another stranger on the streets. Curling his fingers in his pockets, Nico’s head snapped up to see a blond that darted past him, something falling to the ground in his wake. The taller male turned, looking over his shoulder for a brief moment, and in that moment, he caught a flash of bright blue eyes that hardly even seemed to register that Nico was even there. Bright blue eyes pierced his heart, stopping him dead in his tracks. And then, he was standing face to face with a blond, dressed in a green shirt with jeans and flip-flops, though he couldn’t make out the face other than the bright blue eyes and curly hair. 

_ So, where were you? _

Nico blinked, taking a half step forward, arm outstretched.

_ You don’t think I could stand to see a friendly face? _

Time slowed down.

_ Significant annoyance. _

And the blond was gone.

Strangers were back, knocking into Nico as if they could walk through him, and he was scrambling froward, dazed and confused until he toppled to his knees, landing in a puddle. By the time he lifted his head again to look forward at the crowd before him, the blond male was gone. His body trembled, fingers still curled into fists against the puddle under him. Eventually, Nico lowered his dark gaze once again, finding a leather wallet, sitting in the puddle at his knees. He recalled the blond dropping it as he moved past him, but had thought nothing of it at first. Now, however, he had a reason to find him, again. Memories had come back, memories of before, even if they were now fading quickly. 

Reaching out, Nico grabbed the wallet and stood, ignoring the curses and blatant mutters of disapproval from the crowd as they brushed past him. He pulled the wallet open, a picture fluttering to the ground at his feet. Before he could even pick it up from the puddle, the picture registered and he froze. The first thing that came to mind was,  _ Gods, he’s gorgeous.  _ Then, it dawned on him.  It was a picture of the blond and  _ Nico. Nico _ , leaning into the blond’s touch.  _ Nico,  _ who resented any form of human contact.  _ Nico,  _ making himself at home and genuinely happy in the blond’s arms. Golden curly hair and freckles dotting his face, bright eyes. _ Nico _ holding a sword in his hand, a sword black as night.  _ Nico  _ wearing a skull ring on his finger. The blond stranger and  _ Nico.  _ But he didn’t remember him. All that had felt familiar in those few seconds was gone. It had faded as if it hadn’t been there in the first place, but all the same, it was an itch that Nico couldn’t scratch. That blond...Nico knew him, somehow. 

Grabbing the picture and shoving it in his pocket along with the wallet, Nico once again ducked his head and pushed forward through the crowd as he made his way back to the outskirts of the city. By the time he made it back to his abandoned home, the rain had let up. Though, that wasn’t to say Nico wasn’t entirely drenched. Sighing, the male ducked through the hole in the rusted chain link fence that had been overtaken by ivy for years, and made his way up to the house. It wasn’t big, but it was home. Really, the only home that Nico had ever known. It was a small, two story house with chipping paint that had been white at one point. Half the wood was rotten, leaving the upstairs unreachable. Still, it didn’t stop Nico from creating a home down on the first floor.

He ducked in from the back of the house, pulling the makeshift door shut behind him. Running a hand through his soaking hair, Nico made his way through the dark rooms, eventually turning the corner to what he considered his room. Candles lined the walls, set up on boxes and on broken plates to ensure they wouldn’t set anything on fire. Stolen blankets set up on rickety wooden chairs in the corner, with a makeshift bed underneath complete with pillows and even more blankets. Worn posters were stuck to the walls with tape, some of which were too torn to tell what they were, anymore, but Nico didn’t mind. He’d taken whatever he could over the year he’d spent there, and eventually had made the abandoned place feel a little nicer. 

He lit the candles before pulling himself under the blanket fort he hand, setting a spare candle aside before digging out a ripped, black backpack that he’d also stolen and digging through it. Over the year, he had found himself ‘collecting’ quite a bit. Mostly, just things that people had forgotten at bus stops or in the subway tunnels. Some things, like the blankets, he’d taken from street vendors or little shops that lacked in security. Nico could get away with it, he’d learned. He was small, and no one paid much attention to a scrawny kid who looked like the undead. 

Eventually, Nico pulled out a flashlight that barely worked that ran off of batteries that he wasn’t even sure how they were still alive. Switching the light on, he dug through the contents of the male’s wallet. There wasn’t even a driver’s license. Really, there was hardly anything in it except the photo, which Nico had yet to return to the wallet, and a couple small, gold coins. There was a small weight in his chest that seemed to grow as he tossed the wallet aside. Nothing there, and nothing to go off of. Not even a name. “Figures,” he muttered under his breath, shifting to press his back to the wall. His hand slipped into his pocket, fingers grazing the edges of the picture and pulling it out. 

There was nothing about it that seemed familiar.  _ Why am I holding a sword? How did I even know about the sword to being with? And the ring?  _ Pain danced in his eyes, and suddenly he ached like he never had before. For the first time since he woke up under the bridge, he wanted desperately to know who he was and what happened. Nico sighed, flipping the picture over, seeing sloppy writing scrawled on the back of it in smeared ink. 

_ Happy birthday. _

It was obviously his handwriting, and Nico knew it immediately. Tears of frustration brimmed in his eyes as he lowered his head, dark hair now hanging in his face as he rested his forehead against his knee. “Thanks a lot,” he muttered, tightening his grip on the edge of the picture. “How exactly am I supposed to find you with this?”


	2. Will

_ I lost my wallet.  _ That was the first thing Will Solace could think of by the time he remembered how to breathe again. The next thing he found himself thinking was,  _ I think I’ve lost my mind, too.  _ He’d closed himself in the only abandoned cabin in the camp as soon as he’d returned to camp to try and get his head straight. He knew the rules about leaving camp unsupervised and without cause, but Will didn’t care. He wanted to care, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe that Nico was dead, even a year later. No, he knew that Nico was dead. The missing scar on his flesh had shown that, clear as day. But that didn’t stop him from leaving camp in hopes of finding something,  _ anything,  _ that could tie into Nico’s...disappearance. Each time he shuck out, he came back with nothing. This time, however, he had stumbled back with less than he’d left with. The wallet was the least of his worries.

Will’s body trembled as he sat on the floor in Cabin 13, back leaned against the door. His heart hammered rapidly against his ribs and he almost felt dizzy. He’d been seeing things. The Gods were playing a cruel trick on him. That wasn’t Nico. It couldn’t have been. Nico was dead. He saw some scrawny kid in the busy city, in the pouring rain no less, and assumed it was Nico. Maybe it was too many late nights in the infirmary. He was using too much energy, that had to be it. It didn’t matter, because he knew exactly what it wasn’t, and that was Nico di Angelo, his soulmate and former boyfriend. He remembered the sharp pain in the scar during the battle. He remembered whirling around and abandoning his post. He remembered trying to find Nico in the chaos. 

_ Don’t work so worried, Solace. _

__ Of course Will was worried. Nico was about to use himself to  _ bait  _ those monsters. 

_ Hold onto this for me. At the very least, I’ll come back for that. _

__ Will reached into his shirt, pulling out the leather string that hung around his neck and holding it out so he could see the skull ring on the end of it. It was worn and dirty, covered in scratches and even flakes of dried blood on it. There was a time he’d believed Nico. He’d believed that Nico would come back from that battle, but he always thought it would be returning for him, never the ring. Even after his scar had faded, Will found himself hoping his boyfriend would return. Eventually, he abandoned the idea of Nico coming back for him, but surely he would come back for his ring.

Percy and Hazel had searched for days after the battle, though they had failed to recover anything but Nico’s sword, and a part of his coat, which looked like it had been partially burned. It wasn’t until nearly a month later that Will had come out and told them about his scar and how it had disappeared. Nico di Angelo had died in battle, and they couldn’t even properly honor him. Will hated it. He had known that letting Nico use himself as bait was a horrible idea, especially because he  _ knew  _ Nico. He  _ knew  _ Nico and  _ loved  _ him, and he knew Nico wouldn’t stick to just using himself as bait. He’d do something dumb and reckless, and summon zombies or use other sorts of Underworld magic that would get him in trouble. 

But Will had hoped that maybe Nico would be safe, just once, and for him. 

But he’d been wrong.

And now he found himself alone, with nothing left of Nico but a scratched and worn skull ring and a tattered piece of coat. Everyone would tell him the same if he said anything, that Nico was gone and whoever it was, looked similar enough. Aside from that, it was raining earlier when he’d seen him. Take a skinny kid with long, dark hair, drench him and throw him in a crowd in New York, someone is going to say he looks like someone they know. That, and it was likely that Kayla was going to go off on him for leaving the camp. 

_ It’s been a year,  _ he’d tell himself, trying to shake it off. He’d tried to get over it, tried to convince himself to stay at camp. He’s tried everything but he so desperately wanted to at least  _ know  _ happened that day. He wanted to know why they hadn’t found Nico, even after searching the entire city, diggng through whatever debris they found. They never found him, or anything else, and that’s what Will questioned. He wanted to know where Nico went before he died and why they never found him. Had Will’s scar never faded or even existed, he would’ve thought that Nico was still alive and out there, somewhere. 

But he wasn’t. He was gone and Will had nothing left, nothing to show for it. Not even a goodbye. Just a dirty old ring, and that was that. No goodbyes, no I’m sorry’s, no I love you’s. Nothing. Maybe that’s why Will felt so adamant about finding out what happened. He needed to say goodbye. He needed something to let go of. Because holding onto a simple ring wasn’t helping him, it was only making it harder to move on. He couldn’t be entirely in one place when most of him was still wondering what happened and holding onto the possibility that Nico was still out there, even if  he knew that could never happen. But that stranger he saw in the rain...he was sure that it was Nico’s coat.

Surely anyone would tell him that anyone could have found his coat and stolen it, and Will was well aware of that. Sighing, he let the necklace fall back against his chest as he closed his eyes. He didn’t know how long he sat there until there was a knock at the door. Will jumped, turning and pulling it open, half expecting to see a certain king standing on the other side, which of course, he didn’t see. Instead, it was Kayla, her brows pinched together slightly. “I saw you sneak back into camp,” she told him, arms folded over her chest. “And then you came here. You know you shouldn’t be-”

“I know,” Will responded, lowering his gaze slightly. “I’m going back to the infirmary, now, so don’t worry. I didn’t forget about my patients.” He cast another glance in the ginger’s direction before brushing past her. He didn’t get very far before she grabbed his wrist, pulling his arm so it was outstretched between them.

“What’s this?” She asked, and Will let his gaze follow her gaze, which was resting on the side of his arm. A long, white and jagged scar that wasn’t there before. He didn’t even remember getting it or where it would have come from. He hadn’t been around anything all day and hadn’t seen anyone except for the Apollo kids and-

And that kid in the city.


	3. Nico

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for the wait! Anyways, so a lot of my chapters I write to certain songs, because they help me set the tone of the chapter. I thought I could start sharing the songs for each chapter. (Note: the lyrics have nothing to do with the chapters, since they've already been pre-planned. However, some of them do go along with what's happening.) 'Wither' by Rachel Rose Mitchell is the song for this chapter! Enjoy!

Nico couldn’t get it out of his head. The picture of himself and the blond had become worn around the edges, the ink on the back quickly fading faster than he’d imagined. When he was home, it was taped up on the wall under the blankets where he slept. As often as he could, he returned to the last spot that he had seen the blond, and occasionally asking around. More often than not, he was brushed off or ignored, sometimes chased away from vendors that recognized him as the Ghost of New York. Theft was the last thing on Nico’s mind, but it wasn’t as if anyone else would ever have believed that. It didn’t stop him from looking, however. Didn’t stop him from trying.

Nico had gone a year believing that he was alone. Cast to the streets after what he would have assumed to be a fight. If anyone had cared enough to look for him, he would have known, right? Nico had assumed he’d been left behind to die or rot wherever but now….now he didn’t know. This stranger could be the one to help him get his memories back, or at least tell him what happened. He  _ knew  _ Nico and from what he could tell, they’d been close. Close enough for Nico to have trusted him. The blond hadn’t abandoned Nico, if he had, why would he have bothered to keep a photo of the two of them like he had? If he wasn’t mistaken, they both looked  _ happy.  _ Genuinely happy. What Nico wouldn’t give to have remembered what that felt like. 

“Why couldn’t you have just stopped for your wallet, if not me, dammit?” Nico hissed, lowering himself to the edge of a broken piece of cement from the collapsed bridge. Even in all that time, it didn’t seem much like the bridge was a top priority for the city, leaving it ruin. “You’d seen me, I’m sure, and I’m sure you recognized me. You knew you left this behind. So why didn’t you come back?” He dangled his legs over the river that ran below him, making its way through the debris and rubble that remained of the bridge.  

Nico knew he didn’t have the best personality, and he almost knew it wasn’t the lack of a memory. He’d been pretty much the same before he lost his memories. Maybe even worse, he didn’t know. Maybe it was enough for everyone in his past to have collectively agree to leave him. Maybe everyone, including that blond, had decided never to look and abandon him completely. Nico wouldn’t have blamed them if he was half as bad as he was, now. Hell, he’d probably want to get away from himself, as well. For all he knew, that’s what he did. That still didn’t stop him from wanting to figure things out.

“You couldn’t have at least given me your name?” He sighed. “Maybe the universe is telling me to let go of my past. It clearly isn’t coming back. Obviously there’s no way for me to even get back to it.” Nico had debated on and off for some time just getting rid of the image. He didn’t have the slightest idea who the blond was or how to find him, and it wasn’t like the picture was doing much to help. He’d lived on his own for a year with no memory of anyone else, and Nico had done just fine. But now, it was like he knew for the first time that he hadn’t been entirely alone. He  _ knew  _ that there was someone else out there who had known him, and had likely wanted to find him. So why had he run away?

Sighing, the raven haired male leaned back on the piece of cement from the bridge, resting back on his hands with the photograph setting beside him. He’d travel back to the bridge from time to time, telling himself it was out of curiosity. However, he was more than aware that somewhere in the back of his mind, he was hoping that someone would be there waiting for him. “Who are you?” He muttered, dark gaze falling to the blond in the picture beside him. “And where am I supposed to find you?”

The sun was starting to set, and the air was turning to a bitter kind of cold. Nico’s cue to leave. Grabbing the picture, the male climbed to his feet, working his way over the large chunks of rubble and leftover debris until he was safely back in the grass and on his way back ‘home.’ Over the time he’d spent there, he’d called it home. He’d made it home, and he never even imagined living elsewhere. But after the blond, he’d started to consider it less of a home, and more of a prison. Somewhere in the city, maybe even beyond, there was at least someone who had once wanted to find him. But instead of being there at their side, he was stuck in that dilapidated house.

Still, as his dark eyes landed on the collapsing building, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of relief upon seeing the building. After all, it  _ was  _ where he had been living and whether or not it was heated, had electricity, running water or not, it was still shelter from the rain and snow, even if not the warmest of places. “Welcome home,” he muttered to himself, sneaking back onto the property as he did every night, though deciding to sit out under the half collapsed roof of the porch. It was a perch of his he so often ran to when he needed to think and didn’t want to make the journey out to the bridge. 

Sitting on the chipped railing under the roof, he watched as the sky dimmed to black, leaving the city lights and and traffic to chase away the beauty of the night sky. However, Nico’s eyes weren’t on that of the sky, but instead they rested on the messy handwriting on the back of the picture. It was old, he knew that much, and smeared where it wasn’t faded. Dark spots were soaked in the image, to which Nico assumed was blood. “Who were you? And who was I?” He hissed through his teeth, the frustration rising under his skin. “Who were  _ we?  _ How can I find you? Or...or contact you? I need answers, damn you.”

_ Answers.  _ Nico had pushed the thought to the back of his mind so long ago. He’d never get any, and it seemed like everyone avoided him like the plague in the city. It was better to keep to himself than to try and find out how and why he ended up alone, even if he truly did want to know more than anything. All those months ago, he’d deemed it pointless to try and find out but now….now, he couldn’t help it. That’s when it dawned on him; an idea. Not a very good one, but the only one he had. If there was any hope in the world at all, any real Gods or miracles, his idea would work. Nico jumped down from his perch that night, scrambling into the house and to his bed of blankets, putting his plan into action right there.

That next morning, Nico was out at dawn with tape and the stranger’s wallet, standing before the ruins of the bridge. “Alright,” he muttered as he crouched down in front of one of the slabs of cement that had been used to hold up the pathway. “I don’t know if this will work, and I’m not getting my hopes up, but…” Nico pressed the picture to the cement, taping it with the picture facing the cement and the words facing him. “If you’re out there, blondie, don’t make me wait so long.” He dropped the wallet on the ground, below where he’d taped the picture and stood, eyeing his work. Sighing, Nico turned his back, returning to the City with all too much reluctance to look back. 

Scrawled on the back of that picture was something new that hadn’t been there before. A note for the stranger he’d hoped would find it.

_ Who are you? How do you know me? And where can I find you? _


	4. Will

_ New soulmate. New soulmate. New soulmate. _

__ “Will, watch it!” Will felt someone curl their fingers around his bicep, dragging him back onto the sidewalk and out of the path of an oncoming car. He really wasn’t a fan of the city. At least, not anymore. Not since they’d lost Nico in that battle that had raged in downtown New York. He’d always thought that the point of a soulmate was for you to love once, and love with everything you had. To be unconditionally devoted to them in friendship or more. But, Nico was dead, as Will had found out through the scar on his flesh that had long since vanished. Now, in place where the scar of a soulmark should be, there was a new one. A new scar. He couldn’t get it out of his head; the thought of a new soulmate. Will didn’t want a new soulmate. He’d had Nico and he hated the thought that the Gods simply wanted to replace him. To make things worse, they only seemed to be rubbing it in his face by making it that Nico look-a-like he’d met several days before. 

“Try to stay focused, alright?” Will turned his attention to the golden eyes of Hazel, Nico’s sister. When the scar had first appeared, he’d been reluctant to go to anyone with the information, as well as what had happened in the city. Unfortunately for him, Kayla had been the first to discover the scar, to which he had brushed off, returning to the infirmary without any further conversation. Nico’s death had been hard on everyone, especially Hazel. With the appearance of the new scar and the kid in the city, Will had gone directly to Hazel, with the thought of Nico in mind. “I know you want to figure these things out, but we can’t find that boy if you get hit by a car.”

The two weren’t exactly close, or even friends, but they’d both had a connection to the son of Hades, and they both loved him. Hazel had been determined to find her brother, while Will just wanted his boyfriend back. Hazel understood Will’s urgency. At least, to some extent. Even after Will’s announcement of the soulmark fading, she had held out hope that her brother would return, causing her to be far more open to accept the fact that maybe the Gods had something else planned for them with the arrival of Will’s new soulmate. Even so, she wasn’t overly optimistic about their chances of finding him in the city. They’d already been searching hours for the stranger that Will had come across before, and it was worse than finding a needle in a haystack. 

Will had never been more devastated. Maybe he would have gotten somewhere if he’d still had his wallet with the picture. Maybe someone could at least say they’d seen someone similar to Nico if they saw the picture. But no, Will had dropped his wallet and left it behind when he met the others gaze. Dark eyes, long dark hair, there was no mistake, the kid looked exactly like Nico. Then again, the moment only lasted a heartbeat before Will had taken off. He cursed himself for not stopping to grab the wallet, for not turning to identify the male, for not even bothering to get a better look at him. Instead, he ran off without even a second thought. But why? Why couldn’t he handle seeing someone who just  _ looked  _ like Nico? It didn’t mean it  _ was.  _ “Yeah,” he eventually sighed with a nod. “Yeah, you’re right. Wait here, I just want to ask one more person.”

Hazel nodded in understanding before pointing across the street.  “I’ll go ask the workers at that coffee shop,” she mentioned, to which Will only nodded.

The two parted ways as Hazel darted across the street and Will brushed through crowds on the sidewalk. He came across some guy selling shirts, and he easily recognized it to be around where he had first encountered the male. “Excuse me,” he called as he approached the other, who looked just as you would expect a New Yorker to look. At least, not the kind that you’d find in an office. The man lifted his gaze, seemingly annoyed that Will had apparently interrupted his tobacco fix. “Have you seen a boy about this tall, dark hair and-”

“Listen kid, this is New York. I get a lotta kids with dark hair,” he muttered gruffly, scratching the back of his neck and returning to his cigarette. “Now buy something or get lost.”

“He’d be wearing an aviator jacket,” Will added, almost too desperately. In fact, so much so that he was nearly ashamed to admit it. “He was around here the other day, come on. Surely you’ve seen him?”

The man gave a long sigh, smoke swirling from his nose as he shook his head, clearly annoyed. “Look, I don’t keep tabs on every face that walks past me. Hell, I don’t even keep tabs on the people I sell things to. Now beat it.”

Will took a step back, defeated, but not surprised. He figured it was a long shot, but he had to try anyways. He wanted to find that kid more than anything, and he wanted answers. Will hated walking around everyday with scorn shrouding his heart and a growing contempt for the Gods who had more than likely done this, along with added more weight to the situation. He only nodded at the man, offering a short apology before he turned to find Hazel making her way back over to him. Relieved to see her, as opposed to have to wait in front of that man any longer, he made is way to the edge of the sidewalk, where she quickly took the lead. “You won’t believe it,” she started, bouncing slightly as they walked. “The woman at the counter had no idea who I was talking about, but this  _ other  _ lady who was in line behind me told me she’s seen someone similar to that description at the ruins of some bridge at the park. Sound familiar?”

Will winced. “That’s where Nico was headed the last time I saw him alive.”

“Someone’s planning something,” Hazel sighed, shivering at the thought; a sediment that Will could wholly agree with. “And I don’t like it. I’ve already lost Nico, I really don’t want to think of what the Gods are planning on using his death for.”

The blond nodded in agreement, but said no more. Any other time, Will would have been open to conversation. Anything to break the silence, but he didn’t have much to say. He hadn’t had much to say for the past year, ever since Nico was determined to be lost in battle, and eventually confirmed dead. Will hadn’t exactly been himself, and no one could blame him. Where Hazel tried to put on a smile, Will couldn’t. He busied himself in the infirmary, anything to keep himself focused elsewhere when he wasn’t sneaking out of the camp to look for answers.

After some time of silence, Hazel was the one to break it. “What are we looking for, exactly?” She asked. “You know it isn’t Nico. It can’t be, so we’re looking for some stranger?”

“Some stranger who someone recognized with Nico’s exact description,” Will answered, quietly. It was one thing to have seen the stranger and for  _ Will  _ to have thought it was Nico, but for someone to be able to remember seeing the same guy with that description….it wasn’t a coincidence, and Will refused to believe it to be. 

His eyes caught sight of the bridge, still sitting in ruin with caution tape still surrounding it. Some of the bridge had been cleared away, as though the city had started to rebuild, but had decided it wasn’t worth the time and money. It was the same place they’d retrieved Nico’s sword. The last place anyone had known he had been. His death had been a mystery that had haunted the camp for a year. Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, Prince of the Underworld, the Ghost King….had been killed in battle and had just  _ vanished.  _ Even Hazel, daughter of Pluto, had heard nothing of her brother’s whereabouts. It hurt Will more than he liked to admit, and he didn’t like being back there. 

“She said she’s seen him here multiple times,” Hazel told Will, her voice quiet as she began to make her way around the ruined bridge. “He’s never with anyone, and she’s seen him around the city, too. He’s not someone people seem to want to approach. She says he’s...suspicious to say the least.” Her golden eyes wandered over to Will, who was making his way forward. “Will? Do you really think it’s him?”

When there came no reply, she returned to Will’s side. He was crouched down at the base of the bridge, grabbing a leather wallet.  _ His  _ wallet.  _ His  _ wallet and  _ his  _ picture. For a split second, he felt his blood run cold and he reached out, pulling the picture from the cement. There was writing on it, a messy handwriting he’d recognize anywhere. 

__ _ Who are you? How do you know me? And where can I find you?  _

Will’s breath hitched, and it wasn’t until that moment he realized he had even been holding his breath. His hands trembled the longer he looked at it, and Hazel failed to see what he was looking at. Unable to speak, he handed the picture up to Hazel for her to read the back. Golden eyes wide, she dropped her gaze to look at Will as he rose to his feet. “It can’t be,” she whispered. “Nico...he’s dead. This can’t be from him.”

Will shook his head. “You were right about one thing. Someone has a plan, and I’m starting not to like it, either.”


End file.
